I'm comin' home... to see my baaaby!

Finally home after sixteen days in the hospital. I didn't think they would keep me that long but the additional PT was worth it. I find I am fairly mobile at home although I move at the speed of sloth. My walker is even the latest model with dual wheels and the latest in drag/skid technology. It's good to be in familiar surroundings. Pele has been curiously sniffing my knees sensing, like only a dog could, that something occurred there. No nurses in and out asking me my full name and birth-date prior to every poke and probe and serving meals.

I will miss my therapists, Ray and Rhonda, they were especially attentive and encouraging. They said I was one of the most motivate people they had encountered in a long tome. I found that hard to believe as I only did what they asked me to do  - no more. I guess a lot of people walk about five steps then quit and turn around. The stretching hurts so they request a stop to it. I never felt like I was pushing it, I just let them do their thing. Hell yes it hurt - as everyone said it would. I guess I figured that was part of the deal. They brought me close to tears a few times.

The twelve days in therapy had highs and lows. I can't judge progress day-to-day, I have to look at it every 3-4 days to make any sense of it. Some days I was so stiff I couldn't move. Other days I felt loose and yet couldn't do anything additional. One thing I didn't expect was the tightness of the muscles in my thighs. My quads felt as if someone had cut three inches of length out of them and sewed them back together. They are tight and feel hard as iron most of the time. I have more pain from my muscles than from the joints they replaced and all the bones they cut.

I had my ups and I had my downs and each could occur in the same day. I only broke down once and that was the day I came home. I awoke with tighter than normal muscles and felt groggy during the morning sessions of PT. I was laying on my back on one of the big mats while Ray lifted my leg, bent my knee and forced my leg back stretching the muscles - the tears began to flow.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked. 
"No." But I couldn't stop crying.
Ray carefully placed my leg back down on the mat then left to bring back a tissue or two which I took to wipe my eyes. "What's up?" he asked.
"I guess it's just the thought of going home." I answered. "While you're in the hospital you can forget about everything because there's nothing you can do; you're stuck. But now that I'm heading home I am thinking about all the things I need to do, work, home, family responsibilities,  it's overwhelming me because I know how far I have to go down this painful road before I will feel 'normal' again." It all kind of came crashing down on me.

Ray understood. A 30 year-old Iraq Veteran, recently divorced with two small children living with their mother in California. He is moving there next month to be closer to them. He understands how painfully hard it can be just getting back to 'normal'.

I have come to the conclusion that PT is more than just improving the movement in my joints.